Conversations with my Mother…
My Mum is a rather bright button and thanks
to the joy of Facetime we often have long face to face (virtual) conversations
about life, love and the Universe well beyond my bedtime. Tonight, after the
horrors in Belgium we spoke about Politics. A few things came to light which
were rather interesting:
1)
My Parents are incredibly
political and chose not to share this with my sister and I as children, so that
we were always free to decide by ourselves.
2)
They have lived through several
wars and bombs and scares to know that life goes on.
3)
They have taught me to stand up
for my political and ETHICAL beliefs, however small they may seem at the time,
thus, my declaration at a terribly young age to be a vegetarian was met with comprehension
and tranquillity.
These are not in order, obviously, and took
me about 30 years to really understand. Let’s discuss point 3 for example. I
think I was about 4 years old when I decided of my own free will that “Pigs are
my friends and I won’t eat them” was announced by my young self at the dinner
table. My parents didn’t send me to my room or force me to eat what I clearly
didn’t want to. Instead I remember very clearly a conversation about nutrition
and the compromise that followed: if I didn’t eat meat I would have to eat all
my veg and pulses to make up for the protein. At the time it was a radical move
for two child rearing people in the 1980’s. Only hippies were veggie. And the
word “vegan” didn’t exist. I remember my mother writing letters to my boarding
school arguing my case about being a total vegetarian at only 7 years old. My
mother argued that it was my choice that she respected and the school should do
likewise. It was not an easy path to follow, yet she did it. In a sense it was
a political move to send a vegetarian girl of 7 to school in Cumbria…And again
my Father and Mother supported my choice to be a hippy kid. They embraced my
sister and I when we wanted to wear eco clothing and write about politics. When
I was 18 and desperate to vote they NEVER once suggested who to vote for. Or how
to dress for a job interview. Or frown at us when we refused University and
decided to make our own way and work and create our own businesses. NEVER.
I would like to think that this is all
normal, that my parents are like every other, but time has taught me that they
are really NOT NORMAL. Aside from being mildly nuts (yay!) they are quite extraordinary.
And my Grandparents were too (a whole different amazing story will be dedicated
to them). I used to think they were pretty average (blessed be the ignorance of
the young) and I thought we were an average a 2.4 children family. We are not. We
were not. We have had a lot of crazy tales and woes and madness (really!) and
THANK God for that! So cheers to them. At the same time “divorce” was a dirty
word when I was growing up, however my parents were completely understanding.
We knew from a young age that sometimes these things happen.
And the most wonderful of all things,
thanks to social media, is that a whole world of “family” is now open. Many of
you are revealing what your “family” is to you, and most if it is quiet beyond
the “normal”. So I say sod “normal”. What is it? It’s what we make it and how
we live, together. A lot of people we know are remarried, separated with
children, divorced, gay with children or without and the list goes on… I think
the one thing that connects us is love. Not being soppy here, it’s about real
love which at the end of the day comes down to a mutal understanding. Which I
suppose is what I grew up with, from vegetarianism and all the rest. Simple! Or
at least it should be…
